


Jim's favourite distraction.

by grewupwithharrypotter



Series: Something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue. [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Engagement, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Valentine's Day, mormor, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 07:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grewupwithharrypotter/pseuds/grewupwithharrypotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All his life he's been searching for distraction.<br/>And maybe he's finally found it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jim's favourite distraction.

**Author's Note:**

> For my favourite MorMor tumblr blog, westwood-barrett.tumblr.com
> 
> Inspired by this post: westwood-barrett.tumblr.com/post/43092862046

“Good thing I make you shave your chest hair.” Jim threw a smirk at Sebastian, who quirked an eyebrow at him and kicked the bathroom door shut.

“What?”

“It would have made the licking you clean thing a teensy bit awkward.”

The hints of a smile were tugging at the corners of Sebastian’s mouth as the sniper made his way to the bed, flopping down next to Jim.

“Suppose.”

The silence that followed was peaceful, not awkward at all. These were the moments where Jim realised why Sebastian was the only person in this world he tolerated, no, more than that, the only person he liked – _loved_ having around. All his life he’d been searching for distraction.

And he’d found it.

It was currently lying next to him, all smooth scarred naked skin – covered in Jim’s marks – and hard muscles, forest green eyes and sandy blonde hair.

It was Sebastian Moran, Britain’s best sniper, a man so ordinary he fell asleep in front of the telly, and so special he could make Jim laugh so much tears were streaming down his face.

Jim read men like books, could make them love and cry and hate and fear with two well chosen words. Sebastian was no secret to him, he knew him, knew his mind, his personality, his body, by heart. But Sebastian wasn’t boring. Sebastian was challenging, he was infuriating and insufferable and aggravating and stupidly brave.

And Jim wouldn’t change him for the world.

“What’re you thinking about?”

And Sebastian knew Jim, just as well.

“You.” Jim sent him one of his rare, genuine smiles as he said that.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I’m thinking you should put on some clothes.” Dark eyes flickered down to Sebastian’s groin, and Jim grinned playfully. “Is it cold in here?”

Sebastian’s answer was a fist to Jim’s abdomen, but it wasn’t hard enough to hurt.

“Dick.”

Sebastian knew him as well as Jim knew the sniper, which made him the only person to know the real James Moriarty. And Sebastian wasn’t afraid. Sebastian hit him and insulted him and talked back, and they had arguments that resulted in broken furniture more often than not.

And Jim loved it, every second of it.

He loved that they could yell at each other until their throats were sore, and have the best make up sex ever.

And he loved that they were lying in their king-size bed, their arms and legs touching, surrounded by crumpled blankets and hurriedly yanked off clothes. Sebastian’s new boxers in a corner, Jim’s new suit in the closet, an empty box of chocolates and a bunch of flowers on the desk. And an empty bowl of melted chocolate on the bedside table.

He loved that Sebastian made Valentine’s Day more than bearable.

“Shower, pipsqueak.”

He- fine, he hated the nicknames. But he could live with them.

“I want this room clean when I come back.”

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe later.”

Then Jim was on his feet and in the bathroom, smirking when he saw his reflection in the mirror.

He’d never been a fan of hickeys, but he did like the sight of his pale skin covered in bite marks and scratches and cuts, Sebastian’s marks. And even though he would rather cut off his fingers, his toes and his nose than admit it, he did like the thought that he belonged to Sebastian Moran, that he was his, as much as Sebastian was Jim’s.

Maybe it was ordinary. For once in his life, Jim couldn’t find it in him to care.

The shower he took was brief, Jim hopped out after five minutes, towelled himself dry, wrapped the towel around his hips and left the bathroom.

And froze dead.

Sebastian had moved. Which was surprising.

The room was clean. Which was even more surprising.

Sebastian Moran, the best assassin of his generation, was in front of Jim. Facing him.

On his knees.

With a box in his hands.

And a ring in that box.

Very, _very_ surprising.

 

Jim was speechless, something that hadn’t happened since… ever, really.

A proposal. On Valentine’s Day. It was cliché and horrible and ordinary and it was making Jim’s heart race, his fingers shake, and he didn’t know what to say.

After what seemed like an eternity, he went for “I can’t.”

And Sebastian’s smile was warm and genuine. He wasn’t surprised, he wasn’t hurt, he wasn’t angry. He’d expected this answer.

“Yes you can.”

“Seb-“

“Jim.”

And Jim wanted to avert his eyes and shake his head and forget this had happened, it couldn’t be, it was a stupid idea.

He was Jim Moriarty, the most dangerous man in this world, the Napoleon of crime, criminal mastermind, extraordinary, superior.

He couldn’t possibly _marry_ his sniper.

Dangerous, ordinary, boring-

But then it wasn’t. He couldn’t afford a weak point, that was true, but they’d been we’re-not-a-couple-we’re-together-but-not- _together_ -we’re-none-of-your-business for years, and they’d been friends for even longer. And it wasn’t a secret.

Ordinary? Yes, yes it was. Just as ordinary as love. But maybe, just maybe, Jim Moriarty could afford a little bit of ordinariness, every once in a while.

Boring? No.

Challenging, infuriating, insufferable, aggravating, stupidly brave. Perfectly imperfect.

Jim’s favourite distraction.

So Jim closed his eyes, and suddenly the trembling stopped, and his heartbeat slowed. He shook his head and sighed and stepped forward, and Sebastian’s smile widened.

“You’re an idiot. Ruining a perfect day with your romantic nonsense.”

“That a yes?”

“Shut up and put that ring on my finger.”

Sebastian didn’t disobey, and Jim felt his lips curl into a smile when the cold metal band touched his skin. Then strong arms were wrapping themselves around his lean frame, and warm dry soft lips were pressed against his, tasting of coffee and booze and crisps and chocolate, wonderful and familiar and Jim’s. The kiss was hard and rough, a battle, and Jim smiled into it, and bit Sebastian’s shoulder when the sniper’s lips left his mouth and moved to his ear instead.

“Love you, Irish.”

“Hate you, Basher.”

“How about we get dressed, I torture one of our hostages for you and then we shag until neither of us can move?”

“Sounds like the perfect Valentine’s Day to me.”

Then Sebastian kissed him again, and Jim wrapped his hands around his sniper’s neck, running his thumb over the ring.

It might be a bad idea. Jim couldn’t be bothered to give a damn.


End file.
